


Steady as the Lake, Ever-Changing as the River

by frozensea



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Celebrations, F/M, Family Feels, Future Fic, Wakandan Wedding, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensea/pseuds/frozensea
Summary: In theory, he was going to have a pleasant chat with Nakia's parents and spend the rest of the day dancing and feasting and sweeping Nakia off her feet to carry her back to the palace for their wedding night.In theory, there was no need to be nervous.In theory.
Relationships: Nakia (Black Panther)/T'Challa
Comments: 22
Kudos: 64
Collections: Just Married Exchange 2020





	Steady as the Lake, Ever-Changing as the River

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beatrice_Otter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatrice_Otter/gifts).



In theory, the knocking ceremony, the lead-in to a Wakandan wedding, was a courtesy call to the family of the intended bride or groom which involved a presentation of gifts, the sharing of drink and food, a formal request for the bride's or groom's hand in marriage, and a threefold affirmation to said request (once in private, once in front of the family, and once in public.)

In theory, the person of lower social status called upon the family of their intended, but from an early age, King T'Chaka had impressed upon his children that to be a good king meant to consider oneselves a servant to his people.

One of T'Challa's favorite memories of his parents was the roguish glint in his father's eyes whenever he retold the story of walking through the streets of Wakanda, a basket of gifts in his hand while his heart leaped into his throat as he approached the house of their mother's parents. The story had never failed to bring a smile to his mother's face, and T'Challa had often hoped that, one day, he might find a woman who would look at him with the same blend of fond exasperation and gentle affection as when his mother had looked at his father.

Judging from the way Nakia had rolled her eyes when he'd claimed the duty of the knocking ceremony for himself, they definitely had 'fond exasperation' down pat. Gentle affection was something she reserved for more private moments, mostly after she had reduced him to a trembling, pleasantly boneless mess in the bedroom and was stretched out next to him basking in the afterglow.

In theory, the knocking ceremony was an opportunity to discuss the logistics of the wedding as well as the early days of the marriage, settling who was going to pay for which parts of the ceremony, who was to provide a place to live for their spouse and who would provide the household. As Wakanda grew and prospered, these matters where mostly settled beforehand in a less formal setting, and thus the ceremony no longer took place months before the wedding but on the morning of it. Besides, seeing as T'Challa's offer of marriage came with a fully stocked palace, it wasn't something on which his mind had dwelt at all.

Instead, the most contested point of discussion between him and Nakia had been her preemptive refusal to give up the work she did for the outreach center. And although T'Challa had been quick to assure her that he would never ask her to do so, how much time she would allocate to it had been a point of contention between them.

The negotiation had been so fierce, that by the time they came to an agreement on how Nakia would split her time between Oakland, her duties as queen, and... well, him, T'Challa had half a mind to leave all domestic and international arbitration to her.

She'd probably achieve world peace within a year.

Though he sincerely hoped she'd accomplish it with less flirting and outrageous teasing. He was not a jealous man by nature, but he had his limits.

In any case, in theory, the knocking ceremony was little more than a formality, an opportunity for celebration rather than a cause for anxiety. Nakia had accepted his proposal. They were in agreement about all the important things, and the little things they would deal with in time.

There was no reason to be nervous. There was no reason to double and triple-check that the gifts were really in the basket. There was no reason to change his clothes four times because he wanted to give enough prominence to the greens and blues of the River Tribe without taking away from the pride he felt to wear the black and gold of his own family, and there definitely was no reason to spend an hour pacing the length of his private rooms casting anxious glances at the clock.

In theory, he was as prepared as he could be.

In theory, he was going to have a pleasant chat with Nakia's parents and spend the rest of the day dancing and feasting and sweeping Nakia off her feet to carry her back to the palace for their wedding night.

In theory.

In reality, it was a little difficult to marry a woman when she was not waiting for him at home as she was supposed to do, but poring over a three-dimensional, holographic map of the western mountain range with his most trusted general instead.

“What are you still doing here?” T'Challa asked as he hurried into the briefing room. “I'm about to leave for your parent's house.”

“You need to see this,” Nakia replied without looking up. She waved her hand above the projection and a convoy of vehicles lit up as it edged above the tree line.

Okoye gave him a once-over, a knowing smile on her face. “I don't think I have ever seen you this handsome before, my king. Or this frazzled.” Her tone evoked the image of a proud parent sending her child off to school and hovered just on the edge of disrespectful with its deliberate teasing.

That's what you got when your childhood friend became the leader of your personal guard. In truth, T'Challa wouldn't have it any other way. Okoye's teasing kept him grounded.

Still...

“I am not frazzled,” he objected reflexively, though any further protest died on his lips when Nakia finally turned around.

Her expression softened as her gaze traveled the length of him before coming to rest on his face. “But you do look very handsome,” she said.

He could see Okoye fondly roll her eyes before she deliberately turned back towards the map to give them some privacy.

He reached for Nakia's hands and lowered his voice. “And what is so important that you would let your handsome fiance find an empty house when he comes to call on his bride?”

In an instant, Nakia was all business. It happened so fast, he could almost feel the whiplash. The sound that fell from her lips plainly let him know that his ego would receive no further stroking, and she turned away while Okoye tried to smother a snigger.

“Outsiders have crossed our border.” She gestured towards the map. “They are trying to set up mining operations near the western pass.”

“So they have finally come for our vibranium.”

Nakia furrowed her brow. “You expected this?”

“It was only a matter of time before someone would try to steal what is ours, once we came out into the open. I'm surprised it took them this long to try. Do we know who they are?”

Okoye shook her head. “I have sent scouts to observe and delay them. We will have more information in the morning.”

“I want to be informed as soon as they return.” He stepped up to the map and rotated it with a motion of his hand. “They are close to Jabari land.”

“M'Baku is not going to wait for further intel. He will strike with little regard for international diplomacy,” Nakia said.

“He will protect his people,” T'Challa agreed. To Okoye he continued. “Please send an emissary to M'Baku and politely request his patience for another twenty-four hours. I will deal with this first thing tomorrow.”

Internally, he sighed. So much for a leisurely morning waking up next to his wife. The timing could not have been worse.

Okoye straightened and gave him a brief nod. “I will see to it personally.”

“Thank you.”

Once she had left, T'Challa drew Nakia into his arms. Her gaze left the hologram with obvious reluctance.

“You were worried that this would happen from the start.”

T'Challa laughed softly. “You argued with me about this for years. Do not pretend contriteness, now that I have come to agree with you.”

She stiffened. “I wasn't— ”

“It is no use,” he interrupted her gently. “You were right to insist that we can do more—should have done more years ago,” he said as his cousin's face flashed through his memory, “and you were also right that we are strong enough to defend ourselves and our way of life. Both of these things will be challenged, but I can think of no fiercer defender of Wakanda than the woman who is about to become its queen.”

Nakia gave his shoulder a light shove. “Flatterer.”

“It is only the truth. Though I do intend to... _flatter_ you quite thoroughly later toni—”

She cut him off with a kiss which quickly became heated. But before he could give any serious contemplation on whether or not he was willing to risk the unpardonable rudeness of arriving late for the knocking ceremony, his sister's voice interrupted them.

“I cannot believe you two. What is the matter with you? This is not the time to make out like a pair of love-sick teenagers. You're running late for your own wedding. Why are you still standing there? You need to go. People are waiting for you.”

They jumped apart, very much indeed like love-sick teenagers who had been caught by their parents.

“Alright. Alright,” T'Challa laughed as Shuri grabbed his arm and tried to drag him from the room. “I'm going.”

Nakia grinned. “I'll be right behind.”

“You're supposed to be waiting for him,” Shuri said with an expression that was half admonishing, half glowing with excitement. She was still pulling T'Challa towards the door. “Take the hovercraft. You'll get there well before him, but you'll have to sneak in. The square and main street are already lined with people.”

Brother and sister finally reached the door, and T'Challa gave Nakia a half-hearted shrug of apology. He loved his sister in all her bossy, opinionated glory, and wasn't going to argue with her.

“Take your time,” Nakia called after them. “I need to change into my wedding dress.”

* * *

Nakia sat down the cloaked hovercraft on the landing pad high up the banks of the river. From here she had a sprawling view over the broad ribbon of water that wound its way through the verdant valley and the deep, blue lake into which it flowed.

The center of the River Tribe's community was the house of the Elder (who was her uncle) which was situated where the main road winding down the mountains opened up into a large, stone-paved square.

Shuri had not been kidding when she'd said that the streets were already lined with people. They were packed.

The steady beat of drums could be heard all the way to where Nakia stood, and the singing and dancing and general air of high spirits that was obvious even from a distance warmed her heart.

Letting her gaze sweep across the colorful garments, she lingered for a long moment.

Her work often took her away from home for months at a time, and she was generally too busy to feel homesick, but whenever she returned home, she felt a bittersweet ache inside her chest that made her loath to leave again.

It wasn't until she saw T'Challa walk down the main street, flowers and ribbons raining down around him thrown with exuberance by the crowd that had come to celebrate their union, that she set off toward her home.

Stepping off the broad road that would have taken her to the square, she made her way down narrow paths along the river bank. Her family home rose next to the elder's house. An assembly of smaller pike dwellings stretched from the shore out onto the lake, connected by a circular pier, and Nakia slipped unseen through the glass doors of the one furthest out on the lake which she'd claimed for her own once she'd grown old enough to have her own room.

Polished wooden beams supported the thatched roof, and two of the outer walls were made up of floor to ceiling windows which folded into the corners of the room. The glass was lined with vibranium, and one of the beads adorning her wrist was keyed to the force field that kept out unwanted guests.. She turned once and looked around the room, taking in the bright, open space, the writing desk which was the only piece of furniture that had survived her childhood days, the holographic snapshots of friends and family that lined the high board above her king-size bed, the open view of the lake, the inviting blue coolness of the water into which she'd so often jumped as soon as she was awake, the lush rainforest rising on the far shore. Nakia sighed a little wistfully. She would miss this place.

Her wedding dress – a bright neck-holder shift in varying shades of green – was draped across her bed, where she had left it this morning. For the most part, she had experienced only joy and anticipation as their wedding drew nearer, but as she slipped into the dress, a flutter of nerves made her stomach swoop. But she had little time to dwell on that. No sooner had she fastened the dress, that her mother came bustling into the room.

“You will not believe what that boy brought as a gift,” she said excitedly and without preamble.

Nakia couldn't have kept the cheeky smile off her face if she'd tried. “Ginger beer?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“It's your favorite and he wants to impress you.”

“Oh, he's impressed me, alright. He brewed it himself. Took lessons from Z'Kaehri, apparently. Now, there is a man eager to show how important you are to him.”

The swooping motion returned to her stomach. It was just like T'Challa to go the extra mile to show respect to her parents and let his gift stand as a promise that he would also value that kind of care and thoughtfulness in their marriage.

“Poor boy,” her mother continued with obvious affection. “He looked so nervous. It reminded me of your brother when Niiri came to ask for his hand. He was useless all morning before their wedding; could hardly keep his food down, kept dropping things as if his hands were covered in butter. Destroyed two of my vases when I asked him to help me with the flower pots to get his mind off things. By midday, he'd convinced himself that Niiri wouldn't show up even though we weren't expecting her until the afternoon.”

Though Nakia had missed her brother's wedding because she'd been on a long-term undercover mission at the time, she had heard the story many times since. At first, she had been surprised that a member of the Dora Milaje had fallen for her bookish, soft-spoken, younger brother, and vise versa, but the way they behaved around each other had left her in little doubt that they were happy together. She hoped that her relationship with T'Challa would run half as smoothly as theirs appeared to do.

While her mother described the celebrations in the street and recounted the conversation she and Nakia's father had had with T'Challa, she helped Nakia put on the jewelry and elaborate headdress she had chosen for the wedding.

“Now, traditionally, before I ask you whether or not you want to take that boy for your husband or not, I'm supposed to tell you what's going to happen on your wedding night.”

“Mother. Really.”

“Oh, hush. I have no illusions about you being a blushing virgin, seeing as you started sneaking that rascal son of K'Lori's into your bedroom when you were seventeen...”

“Wait. You know about that?”

“Sweetheart, what do you think _I_ did when I was seventeen? Stay home and design a more eco-friendly hovercraft engine?”

“Isn't that...”

“Well, yes. I did. But that's not the only thing I did. In any case, if you want any advice on how to spice things up—“

Nakia laughed. “We're good. But thank you for the offer.”

Her mother turned her around and gave her a piercing stare, though there was a smile lurking in the corners of her mouth. “Then answer me this. Does he treat you well? He has always struck me as a kind boy who grew up into a kind man, but the face we show in public is sometimes little more than a mask. I couldn't let you go, knowing that you would not be happy with him.” Her voice hitched on the last words, and Nakia gently cupped her face and pressed a kiss to her mother's forehead. She felt her own eyes well with tears and quickly blinked them away.

She wasn't leaving her family forever. She would still come back to visit, and as much as she loved T'Challa, this place would always be her home, but now simply her first home instead of her current one. There would always be a part of her that missed it, and perhaps that permanent change was the reason her nerves were – How had Okoye put it earlier? – frazzled.

“Don't worry, mama. He is exactly as he has presented himself. Kind and generous, stubborn and infuriating, yielding and loving.” She smiled, no longer trying to hold back the tears. “Above all, he's a good listener.”

Her mother took her hands and squeezed them tightly as she broke into a watery laugh. “Perhaps the most important virtue of all.”

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders. “Your grandmother used to say 'Love brings people together, but it takes respect and compassion to make a marriage work.' Being queen is no easy responsibility to take upon your shoulders. It will keep both of you busy and at times you will disagree and quarrel over the time you don't have for each other or hard decision that must be made. I want you to know that if you ever need anything from us, be it advice, or a respite, or just someone to talk to about something that doesn't have anything to do with matters of state of your marriage, we will always be here for you. You may marry into another family now, but we were your first family, and there will always be a place for you here.”

Nakia swallowed the lump in her throat. Her heart felt too big for her chest, it was overflowing with so many emotions.

“Thank you, mama. I love you. You and baba. So much.”

“As we do you.” Her mother patted her hand as she collected herself. “Alright. Alright. Now, let's get down to business. Nakia, my beloved daughter, T'Challa, son of T'Chaka, has come to visit us today to ask for your hand in marriage. Do you accept him or shall I turn him away?”

Nakia's smile was full of happiness as she kissed her mother's hand in the formal way she had been taught as a girl.

“I accept him. With all my heart.”

* * *

T'Challa visibly relaxed when she entered the main house. It might have been silly for him to worry that she would send her mother to dismiss him, but then again, seeing as her stomach flip-flopped as soon as she laid eyes on him, who was she to mock him for that silliness? She wasn't any different.

Her father received her with open arms and a wistful smile. Her brother and his wife, her aunts and uncles — save for W'Banu who was the tribe elder and waited for them in the square — were gathered as witnesses to her second affirmation.

Once she had answered her father's question and confirmed that she wanted to marry T'Challa, her mother presented them with the traditional goblet of cooled cider. Nakia held the cup to T'Challa's lips, and after he had drunk from it, he did the same for her.

Nakia's frazzled nerves calmed as she went through the rehearsed motions, and when T'Challa offered her his hand to take her outside, she felt calm and centered and saw the same certainty reflected in his smile that she felt, too.

The celebration outside died down when they stepped into the sun-flooded square. The only thing that could be heard in the sudden absence of drums were hushed conversations and the jostling of many bodies trying to get to the front of the crowd to get a better look. Hand in hand, they crossed to the center of the square where the elder of the river tribe and T'Challa's family waited for T'Challa to publicly make his request and for her to accept it for the final time.

* * *

"You will miss them," T'Challa whispered to her later that night.

Nakia's feet ached from all the dancing she had done, but her heart was too full for her smile to falter. She took her husband's hand and drew his arms around her waist until he rested his chin on her shoulder and she could lean back into the solid warmth of his chest.

"I will take them with me wherever I go. As I will do with you when I'm away. Or when you are away. Starting tomorrow, apparently."

T'Challa groaned softly and buried his face in her shoulder. The reminder of the mining operation that had to be dealt with was as unwelcome to him as it was to her, though neither could push the matter entirely from their minds.

"Speaking of that unpleasant duty. Seeing as we'll have to get an early start tomorrow, what are my chances of convincing you to leave a little early?"

Nakia turned in his arms. "It would be rude to leave before midnight."

"Lucky for us midnight is less than ten minutes away."

She caught his mouth in a soft kiss. "Just enough time for one more dance then." She laughed as she took his hand and pulled him into the exuberant crowd.


End file.
